


don’t you mind

by catbrains



Category: The Covenant (2006)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Movie, Trauma, based on the fact that pogue wasn’t exactly coherent when caleb went to visit him in the hospital, caleb just killed a man and hasn’t slept and he’s a mess, pogue’s on a lot of pain meds and he’s a mess, so caleb waits for him, that’s the catalyst in both of them Experiencing Emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-28 05:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19387072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbrains/pseuds/catbrains
Summary: The first time Pogue wakes up after, he is alone in a dark hospital room with nothing but a thin blanket and the dull ache of his injuries mingling with vague panic in a molasses-slow mix of discomfort that’s enough to make him nauseous.The next time he opens his eyes, what feels to be either twelve minutes or twelve months later, Caleb is there.





	don’t you mind

**Author's Note:**

> i literally watched this movie last night and choked this out over the equivalent of approximately four hours  
> that’s how strongly caleb/pogue struck me
> 
> this is mostly just me enjoying the angst and melodrama of witchy teenage boys and my new favourite movie, and also having too much fun with Proper Nouns (which this universe has...a lot of. Power, Use, Ascend, Brother, Son, etc. love that.)
> 
> not beta read, clearly - it was barely even proofread, so please let me know if you find any mistakes!
> 
> enjoy!! ♡

The first time Pogue wakes up after, he is alone in a dark hospital room with nothing but a thin blanket and the dull ache of his injuries mingling with vague panic in a molasses-slow mix of discomfort that’s enough to make him nauseous.

His consciousness is fleeting. 

‘ _Caleb_ ,’ he thinks, and maybe he tries to say it, but then his eyes are sliding shut again and the world blurs into oblivion.

The next time he opens his eyes, what feels to be either twelve minutes or twelve months later, Caleb is there. He’s holding Pogue’s hand - clutching it, in fact - and Pogue can’t help the hiss of pain he lets out.

Dimly, he remembers the feeling of his motorcycle being lifted beneath him. He remembers eyes staring at him through the darkness, black as night, remembers the feeling of flying before the ground came up to meet him. He remembers seeing Chase walk towards him, pace leisurely, even though his vision had been blurred with tears and blood.

After that, it’s all kind of a mess. He remembers a lot of pain. He remembers screaming Caleb’s name once or twice.

Maybe he does it again, because when he opens his eyes once again he’s kind of in Caleb’s arms. Caleb’s obviously afraid to hold him properly, because he’s all wrapped up in bandages with wires and tubes everywhere, but the older boy it sat up on the bed next to him and he’s got his gentle, trembling arms wrapped around Pogue - one across his shoulders, the other gently carding through his hair that’s still kind of matted with dirt and blood - and he’s talking.

“It’s okay. It’s alright now. You’re safe. I’ve got you. I’ll protect you. I’ll always protect you.”

It’s kind of blurring together. Caleb’s voice is so hard to concentrate on, like all of the voices yelling while Pogue’s swimming.

He wants to sink beneath the water again. It feels safer where he is, not quite breaking the surface, still cocooned in the safety of unreality.

But then he thinks of all the times he’s won a race and clutched the side of the pool, pulled his head up to break the surface, and Caleb has been right there, smiling like he never smiles for anyone else, like he’s just so _proud_ of Pogue, and he’s let his big brother pull him out of the water and towards the others.

The others. Pogue misses them, too. He wants to see them. He remembers being scared, remembers thinking that perhaps he’d never see them again, and then he’d remembered that the last interaction that they’d had was him running out, furious. He hadn’t even said goodbye. They had probably all been pissed off with him. Hotheaded as usual.

He wants to see them. He wants to apologise.

But the only thing that he manages to choke out is, “Caleb.”

“Yeah,” his Brother says, hoarse and a little shaky. “Yes. I’m here, Pogue, I’m not leaving you.”

“I left you.” Perhaps it’s the only coherent thing he’s managed to get out in a while, drifting in and out of consciousness and all, because he feels the way Caleb jerks.

“Pogue?” he whispers, definitely shakier now, and then there’s a hand desperately but very gently pulling his messy hair back from his face, tucking it all behind his ears, and then Caleb is leaning forwards and Pogue is _seeing_ him.

“Your face,” he mumbles softly, confused, trying to reach up to trace over the cut on Caleb’s cheek, but just tensing the muscles to move them makes pain shoot through him and he can’t stifle the pathetic noise he lets out.

“Don’t,” Caleb says gently, and there’s a hand in his hair again, just stroking it, and Pogue feels the tension drain out of him. “You...you got hurt. Badly. Really badly, Pogue, do you remember?”

Pogue closes his eyes and sees Chase’s grin. He sees blood on the ground and he sees his bike in pieces and he hears Chase’s godawful _voice_ , swearing over and over again that he’s going to kill Caleb after taking his Power and he’s going to enjoy every goddamn second of it.

Pogue only becomes aware that he’s crying when he hears the sharp inhale to indicate that Caleb is too. He turns over as best he can, fighting through the pain and the tugging of wires and tubes and needles, and he buries his face against the cold, damp skin of his big brother’s neck. He smells like smoke and rainwater and a little bit like blood, but there’s an undercurrent of sweetness. Sarah’s perfume.

Pogue definitely feels nauseous again, but throwing up would take more energy than he has. Instead, he hiccups and scrunches his eyes shut, feels the way it makes the bruises beneath his eye ache.

“What did you do?”

It’s probably not the best question to ask. It sounds like an accusation, like Caleb did something _wrong_ , but Pogue knows without a doubt that he didn’t do anything good - didn’t do anything that wasn’t a terrifying risk.

“I did what I had to.” 

Pogue’s never really seen Caleb cry before. He’s not even really crying now, probably, but his voice is thick and shaky. He inhales and presses his face to Pogue’s hair, tightens his hold, and this time Pogue desperately swallows down any noise of pain that almost escapes. “I...I won. I think. It didn’t feel like it, but...but he’s gone now, and you’re safe. Everyone’s safe. It’s going to be okay.”

Somehow, it doesn’t really feel like it. Pogue thinks about Sarah and Kate and lets out a pathetic noise, his mind dizzy and his head throbbing with what might be a concussion.

“Why are you here?”

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. He has no sense of it at all, but he knows it hasn’t been long, because his injuries still hurt just as bad as they did when each of them was inflicted, if not worse, and the scrapes on Caleb’s face look like they’re only just beginning to heal. 

Really, Caleb doesn’t look so bad, considering he pretty recently fought a death match. Pogue can at least be grateful for that.

“What do you mean?” Caleb asks, voice soft. “Where else would I be?”

Isn’t it obvious?

“With...wi—“

Pogue’s consciousness drifts again, and his head lolls as a wave of pain and weakness comes over him. He feels Caleb panic, feels arms tighten around him and - again, like he’s underwater - he hears a jumbled string of loud-but-so-so-quiet words.

He’s helpless to stop it, just lets the pain take him in the hopes that it’ll make everything a little bit better when he’s unconscious again. He lets the memories flood in - his shoulder then his head colliding with the road with full force, metal from his bike scattering, black eyes staring, footsteps coming closer and closer, that fear that he was going to die—

And then it all goes away. 

He gasps, jerking weakly, but Caleb’s got a safe hold on him now and Pogue couldn’t stop him even if he wanted to, because he’s weak and the feeling of Caleb’s Power wrapping around him, cocooning him, sinking into his battered and bruised body, feels so, so good. He feels safe. The pain sinks away, his consciousness comes back to him, but then he starts to feel one of the larger gashes on his side start to knit itself together, the way his fucked up shoulder starts to shift, and he uses as much of his strength as he can muster to shove Caleb’s chest.

It’s enough. Caleb almost falls off the bed and the cocoon of his Power vanishes, leaving Pogue with his pain but with the assurance that Caleb isn’t going to start developing wrinkles only a few days after Ascending.

“Are you out of your _mind_?” he hisses, and Caleb at least looks guilty, eyes red and wet as his gaze roams over Pogue. “You’re the—the ‘no Powers’ guy, and now you’re here using them on me for no reason?” Pogue hadn’t even known that Caleb had healing powers. Even after Ascending, he shouldn’t be able to pick up new abilities and use them that easily, right?

Caleb shakes his head. He hesitates for a few moments, one of his hands reaching out and gently rubbing up and down Pogue’s back, catching a few gashes and deep bruises on its way. When he speaks again, his voice sounds rough.

“You have no idea how I felt when I found out that Chase had hurt you,” he says, and then he meets Pogue’s eyes in that way he always does when he’s being agonisingly sincere. “Ty and Reid said it was bad. They said that the doctors were saying that you might not wake up and I felt...like...like the world was collapsing. I didn’t protect you. I was meant to, and I didn’t.”

“I thought Sarah was meant to be the one you’re protecting.”

Caleb flinches, gaze dropping down to his lap.

“I was meant to be protecting _all_ of you. Sarah included.” He moves his hand away from Pogue’s back and rakes it through his own messy hair, jaw set. “But...I got too caught up with her. I forgot about the rest of you, forgot what was at stake until Chase made that clear to me by almost _killing_ you. And Kate.”

It’s Pogue’s turn to flinch at that. Caleb loves all of his friends, will protect all of them with everything he’s got and that’s something that Pogue has always respected him for, but the idea that Pogue was - from Chase’s perspective - as small a loss to Caleb as Kate kind of makes him want to throw up or maybe get thrown off his motorcycle again.

Caleb must notice the look on his face, because his brows crease in concern.

“What’s wrong? Are you still in pain? I—“

“Don’t.” Pogue’s voice comes out sharper than he intends it to. His eyes burn. “You should go and see Sarah.”

Caleb stands up, and Pogue truly thinks he’s leaving, just like that. His heart jolts, something like the realisation of abandonment settling heavy in his stomach, but then Caleb just rounds the bed so he can sit pressed close to Pogue’s side and gather him up in his arms again.

“I’ve seen Sarah,” he says softly. “She’s okay. Kate’s been let out, the two of them are back at their dorm. I drove them there and then I came straight back here. I wanted to be with you.”

‘ _Why_?’ is on Pogue’s tongue, but he swallows it.

“How long has it been since I was brought in?” he asks instead, glancing for the first time at the windows and squinting at what seems to be the morning sun peeking through the blinds.

“It’s been...it’s been a couple days since Chase attacked you,” Caleb says. “I think, at least. I haven’t really been keeping track. I haven’t slept.”

Pogue’s gaze snaps back to Caleb’s face, concerned. “Why not? You—you battled a dude to the death. You’re telling me you’ve spent your time afterwards carpooling and staring at me?”

“How was I meant to do anything _other_ than stare at you?” Caleb demands, and his voice is suddenly loud, suddenly _angry_. “Sarah and Kate both—both woke up. Chase had all of you under his Power, was using it to keep you down. As soon as it was gone, Kate and Sarah were fine again, but you...you weren’t. You’re still hurt so badly.”

Pogue feels a trembling hand card through his hair again, pulling slightly on the tangled, matted strands. It’s gross, and Pogue wants to tell him he doesn’t have to, he doesn’t have to touch Pogue at all, but Caleb doesn’t seem to care.

“I—I came in as soon as I could,” he says, “After what happened. Ty and Reid were here. You were awake but you were...you were incoherent and you were _scared_ and I...I was scared too. But I was angry. I wanted to stay with you so badly, but I couldn’t. I knew what I had to do. So I left you and they had to leave you too and you were on your own and now—now. I couldn’t leave you again. I can’t. I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up again.”

And this time Pogue can’t stop it. “Why?” he asks, voice trembling slightly with the weight of it. “I was just...just the second threat. Clearly you care more about everyone else, right?”

Just by the way Caleb’s whole body seems to freeze up, he knows he shouldn’t have said it. He feels almost desperate though, he still feels that terror he’d felt while Chase was stood over him and all he could think to scream for was _Caleb_ , and maybe it’s all the drugs that he’s being fed making him loose-lipped or maybe it’s him finally deciding that it’s time to tell Caleb the _truth_ , the whole truth, but either way he can’t quite stop once he’s started.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because it just feels appropriate. What else is he meant to preface this with? “I just...I know everything’s gone to shit lately, and I shouldn’t be pushing this on you now. I shouldn’t be telling you at _all_ , but...but my head feels so fucked up right now and everything hurts and I can’t—can’t stop thinking about Chase and the road and my _bike_ and the blood and how during the entire thing I could only think about you. I called out for you, y’know? While...while Chase was...I screamed out your name like you were gonna come save me. It’s the only thing that made sense in my head.”

He glances up just in time to see a tear roll down Caleb’s scraped cheek. His hands are in his lap now, curled into tight fists while his face is curled into a grimace, and Pogue wants to reach out and link their fingers but he’s terrified of how it’ll feel when Caleb understands what he’s saying and pulls his hands back.

“I thought...about all of you. About Tyler and Reid and Kate and my parents and how I’m a fuck up and how—how I just wanted to be able to talk to you one more time, because if I could then I’d tell you the truth. And that’s...that’s an easy vow to make while you think you’re dying, but I still kind of feel like I’m dying now, so I’m trying to—trying to ride that, y’know?”

He sounds hysterical. He sounds _drunk_ , rambling and tripping over his words, and there’s pain in Caleb’s eyes as he finally uncurls one fist and curls his hand instead around the back of Pogue’s neck, thumb gently rubbing back and forth just beneath his jaw, pulling him just that little bit closer to that they’re half-sat facing each other, faces leaned close like they used to sit when they were children sharing secrets.

“You’re gonna regret this when the morphine wears off,” Caleb murmurs, eyes warm, and Pogue laughs, weak and breathless.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I’m gonna hate myself. But...but lately, I already do. ‘Cause I’m...I’m an asshole and Kate hates me and I don’t even like her, not like I’m supposed to, but I just wanted to keep her close because—because Chase scared me and everything felt wrong but now he’s dead and she’s safe and I don’t want to kiss her ever again. I never wanna kiss Kate ever again.”

He meets Caleb’s gaze, his own eyes desperate and burning with tears which are threatening to spill over again, and Caleb just blinks at him before he lets out this gentle, loving laugh that makes Pogue’s chest ache, his hand tightening where he’s holding Pogue’s neck, keeping him grounded and safe and secure.

“That’s it?” he asks. “You wanna break it off with Kate? That’s okay, man. You don’t have to be with her. You don’t have to be with anyone.”

“But I wanna be with _you_.”

And there it is. Nothing poetic, of course, not like the speech that Pogue had been stumbling through. Just raw honesty, the type that Caleb has always gotten from him.

“You.” Caleb’s smile is so suddenly gone, replaced with furrowed brows and a slightly slack jaw and a terrifying and unidentifiable and heavy _something_ in his eyes. “You what?”

Caleb has always accepted it before. He’s always accepted every secret, every confession, every truth that his little brother has whispered to him in the silence of a bedroom at night or slurred to him on their way back from Nicky’s or yelled at him in the midst of an argument.

Figures that this is the one he gets stuck on.

“I’m sorry,” Pogue whispers, cursing the way his voice cracks. He shakes his head until he’s dizzy, like it’ll clear the air and make every word he’s spoken disappear. “I’m...I’m sorry. You need to go. Go see Sarah and...and talk to the others and tell Ty and Reid I’m sorry for being the worst and—“

And Caleb’s holding him in place with the hand on his neck and he’s leaning in and he’s pressing a soft kiss to Pogue’s temple, right beside the bandage covering the largest of his head wounds. 

On some level, it has the desired effect. It makes Pogue’s mouth stop running, slows his heart’s racing pace, but it also makes the tears in his eyes spill over and this time they won’t stop, this time they start pulling sobs from him until Caleb’s tucking him against his neck again, murmuring assurances and stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Pogue hiccups pathetically, eyes scrunched closed like that’s enough to make this a nightmare. “I love you, Caleb, I’m sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

He’s underwater again, but this time it feels like he’s drowning. His lungs are filling up with each time he mumbles the same words and he’s choking, and he’s clinging to Caleb so desperately, just waiting for the moment that his Brother will push him away and leave him to sink. 

He doesn’t, though. Of course he doesn’t. He just holds Pogue and keeps saying comforting nonsense, the type of big brother assurances that Pogue has heard from him too many times to count, because Pogue is always hurting and he’s always seeking out Caleb to make it better.

The words all blend together until Caleb presses another kiss to Pogue’s hair while Pogue trips over an ‘I love you’, and he says, “I love you, too.”

Pogue doesn’t even give himself a moment to believe it.

“No, you _don’t_ ,” he sobs, chest aching. “You just want me to shut up.”

Caleb laughs again then, all soft and gentle and a little bit teary, and Pogue knows on some level that he’s being dramatic and he’s also a complete mess - and he’ s going to blame it on the drugs and the pain and the injuries and the fact that he almost _died_ \- but just knowing isn’t enough to make it better.

Because, really, this is the most honest he’s ever been - not just with Caleb, but with himself, allowing himself to feel what he feels, and it’s...it’s a lot.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Caleb presses a feather-light kiss to his tear-streaked cheek, right on the cut beneath his cheekbone.

“Okay, I do kinda want you to shut up with that part,” he says. “But the rest. The ‘I love you’s? Those are fine. I like those.”

Pogue waits a few long moments before he dares to look up at him. Caleb’s eyes are wet again, and he looks exhausted beyond belief, but there’s nothing but sincerity in his face.

“But,” Pogue whispers, terrified. “Don’t you mind?”

He thinks about Sarah. He thinks about Kate, about Tyler and Reid, about the person he’s spent so many years trying so hard to be, but then he meets Caleb’s eyes and it all fades away. 

“I don’t,” Caleb whispers. “I don’t mind. But I also know that you’re on a cocktail of pain meds and also nearly died less than seventy-two hours ago.”

“So did you,” Pogue points out, almost childishly, and Caleb lets out one of his soft, gentle, just-for-Pogue laughs again.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I did. And that...that just drives home my point that maybe this isn’t the best time, alright? Maybe we need to talk about this.” And he seems to sense Pogue’s heartbreak before it even crosses his face, because he’s suddenly leaning in close again and scattering gentle kisses over Pogue’s face, holding him close and carefully avoiding the nasal cannula and the more severe injuries beneath bandages. “It’s _okay_. I love you, Pogue. I...I know I do. But I’m so fucking tired and I don’t want to hurt you and you’re...I think you’re hurting enough as it is. So we’ll talk later. When you can sit up and breathe on your own and when I’m not seeing, like...four of you.”

Pogue laughs, just a breathless sort of huff, and Caleb laughs too. He presses another kiss to Pogue’s hair, lingers there for a moment, and then he makes to get up. He pulls back, grunts with the effort, and Pogue’s body doesn’t really check in with his mind before he’s grabbing his Brother.

“Don’t leave me.”

More desperate and feeble than he was going for. He mumbles a nervous ‘please’ as Caleb stares at him, eyes suddenly swimming with a deep sadness again, before the older boy smiles very gently and nods.

“I won’t,” he promises. “You’re...you’re the most precious person in the world to me. I won’t ever leave you.”

Pogue swallows and tugs at him, weak and useless, until Caleb caves and crawls back onto the bed properly and lies down next to him. The bed is small and cramped, and Pogue lets out a few hisses when a tube or wire gets tangled between them and tugged, but eventually they manage to settle, shoulders presses together and fingers linked. Caleb laughs again when Pogue gives him a pointed look for using his telekinesis to carefully lay the thin, scratchy blanket over the both of them, but he looks more serious when he promises that he won’t do it again.

“Gross blanket isn’t worth it anyway,” Pogue mumbles bitterly, and Caleb huffs a laugh.

Pogue still doesn’t know what happened between Caleb and Chase. He doesn’t know what happened with everyone else. He doesn’t know a lot of things, but he knows that he’s alive and he knows that Caleb is too and he knows that Chase, supposedly, isn’t.

He knows that Caleb loves him and won’t leave him, and he knows that everything is going to be alright. And, for now, that’s enough for him to let his exhausted eyes slide closed as soon as he hears Caleb’s breathing almost immediately even out, puffing softly against the side of his face.

They’re both deep asleep by early afternoon, when Tyler and Reid arrive with Pogue’s soft blanket from his bed and a change of clothes for Caleb - both of which had been requested by Caleb, because he’s still wearing most of his dirty prom suit, the jacket tossed over the back of a chair and his shoes on the floor, and he’d known as soon as laying eyes on Pogue’s form when he’d first come to the hospital that the younger boy would hate the issued blanket.

Entirely unperturbed by his two eldest Brothers tucked together while they sleep, Tyler sets about gently tugging the scratchy blanket away from them, methodically dislodging Pogue’s tight grip on it and muttering a string of hushed expletives when he just grabs it in a different place, while Reid yanks the other blanket out of his bag and unfolds it.

“Need some help there, baby?” he coos while Tyler struggles, and Tyler finally looks up to glower at him as he manages to wrench the blanket entirely away. Pogue lets out a noise of distress in his sleep, something close to a whine, and Reid makes uncharacteristically quick and gentle work of laying the soft, thick blanket over the two occupants of the bed, tucking it around them and holding it up a little to encourage Pogue to grip at it again with the hand that isn’t holding Caleb’s. He does so and settles, and Reid smiles very softly.

“Hey,” he whispers, without moving his gaze. “You remembered to bring the camera, right?”

“Of course I did,” Tyler whispers back. “Who do you think I am?”

A shuffle, then a series of shutter sounds as Tyler makes use of the digital camera he’d been bought for his last birthday. Reid settles down on one of the chairs beside the bed while Tyler focuses on getting the ideal lighting and angles or whatever, until the youngest is dropping down in the chair next to him, looking through his photos with a smile.

“You get some good ones?” he asks, and Tyler’s smile widens.

“Uh-huh.”

Reid nods approvingly, then hums in consideration.

“We might have to keep them until we figure out whether they’re blackmail material or anniversary gifts.”

Tyler glances up and tilts his head, smiling again at the way Caleb’s head is turned towards Pogue’s.

“I’m pretty sure I can guess.”

Soon enough, he puts the camera away and he and Reid sit and talk. Food gets delivered for Pogue at some point shortly after they arrive, and Reid eats it unapologetically despite Tyler’s protests that Pogue is obviously going to need it more.

Thankfully, it’s evening by the time Caleb and Pogue stir, and another meal has been delivered by then. Pogue complains about it being gross but eats most of it anyway at Caleb’s insistence and utter refusal to go and get him any fast food, and then he manages to stay conscious for a few solid hours and even hold a decent conversation before he drifts again. Caleb stays stuck to his side and strokes his hair while he sleeps, plays along with Reid’s teasing, and when night falls Tyler and Reid don’t leave, taking advantage of the hospital staff’s willingness to leave them alone save for the few nurses that have come in to check on (or “bother”) Pogue.

Tyler and Reid curl up in their padded chairs, using their jackets as blankets, and through some feat they somehow manage to organise themselves to all be touching. Caleb’s got Pogue in his arms and Reid is holding Pogue’s hand that’s hanging off the bed and Tyler is leaning with his head against Reid’s shoulder, and it feels like one of the sleepovers they used to have as kids.

The crisis may have been averted, they may all be safe, but for a short while they allow themselves to forget the crisis in its entirety. They fall asleep together as friends, as brothers.

Or, maybe, as Caleb - the last to fall asleep - dares to lean in and press a kiss to the corner of Pogue’s lips, something a little different.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! ♡  
> i have no idea how active this fandom is, but please let me know if you liked this or if you’d like me to write more! i kind of really love these boys!!


End file.
